


Mending

by Cerylune



Series: Sinestral [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bird/Human Hybrids, Birds, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, OT3, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerylune/pseuds/Cerylune
Summary: While Syreniia is recovering from her time held captive at the brothel, Vevay blames herself for not being strong enough. It falls to Cecily to be the healing hands both women desperately need.





	Mending

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an artist not a writer, pls be gentle. ;v;
> 
> \- Characters depicted are humanoids with avian characteristics  
> \- Pavonians are bird people with small wings and long tails made of a mix of feathers/hair

Syreniia lay curled upon the worn armchair in the living room. The dim, evening light filtered through the windows and splashed a spotlight of color across a slender leg poking out from beneath the blanket draped around her. She lay very still in the dismal silence. Her breathing so slow and shallow anyone in the room with her would have thought her asleep.

A few weeks had now passed since she had been freed from her servitude. The brothel and all it’s ilk had violated every part of her. She had been used by multiple men there. She could recount every hand had that had forced her down and every profanity barked at her. All of the twisted faces of the men that bent her to their will, she remembered in detail. The physical shackles were now gone but the pain would still linger long after the bruises that dotted her hips had healed.

Sy shuddered and pulled the blanket up around her weary shoulders. She had wept for home every night in that hellish place, but free now, she still found herself in the residence of another. It was by Cecily’s suggestion that she spend time in her company. She had implored that the pavonian’s private estate was too large and too empty. Sy had only nodded in agreement. The long hallways and empty corridors echoed the hollowness inside of her.

In comparison, Cece’s house was very small but it had it’s own charm. There were two bedrooms, a bath, and kitchen. The living room contained a few furnishings and a solitary grand piano that was played often enough so as not to collect dust. In fact, Sy was very surprised at how tidy and spotless everything in the house was kept. Even with the house owner spending most  
of her time out in the greenhouse tending to the plants she used to make medicine, there was not a speck of dirt in the house.

The creaking sigh of a door followed by soft footfalls reached Sy’s ears. She glanced upward meekly when gentle hands teased through her hair that draped over the arm rest.

“Your bath is ready now. How about we get you in that tub?” Cecily’s voice was low and soft, holding all the gentleness of a mother soothing her child. She smelled of earth and freshly cut flowers. Her long hair was pulled up into a loose bun. Her eyes reflected that gentleness as she looked down at Sy, only a line of worry crossed her angelic complexion.

They had gone through this routine every day like clockwork, the pavonian rarely moving from her chosen spot unless to eat, bathe, and sleep. Sy nodded slowly, abandoning her blanket and removing herself from the sanctuary of the armchair. Cece grasped her arm and gently maneuvered her down the hall and into the bathroom. Once inside, Sy tentatively removed her dress one strap at a time and let the fabric fall to the tile floor, her undergarments following in suit.

The first night Sy did this had left a sorrowful pang in Cece’s heart. Sy’s face had been completely lifeless as she stripped down right in front of her. The timidness she normally revealed in her behavior had been completely erased and replaced with a listless despondency. Cece could only stare wide-eyed in horror. There were red abrasions around her slender wrists and purple bruises across her neck, breasts, and hips. Cece covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Sy said nothing. She didn’t even flinch when Cece reached out with a shaking hand to trace a laceration that trailed from her sternum to pelvis.

“Who did this to you?” It was not a question that needed an answer, Vevay had already recounted to her in tense silence what had become of Sy in the months she had gone missing. Even a master at holding her composure, Cece’s voice had still shook. She stroked her fingers across Sy’s cheek as if hopeful to awaken some life hidden there, to mend the cut strings of a broken doll.

“Men,” her voice was very small when she finally spoke, “there were multiple men. I was told to do anything they desired. They…did unspeakable things to me. I’m tarnished, Cece. I want to die.” The despairing woman had fallen, helpless into Cece’s arms and wept until her lungs burned and her voice could no longer carry her sobs. Cece had craddled the woman against her chest and rubbed circles along her bare back until she calmed.

The marks had faded some since then. Sy’s bruises still shown a garish yellow against her pale features, but were far from the dark purple splotches they were when she first arrived. The pavonian climbed into the full tub waiting for her and draped her long tail over the side. Cece pulled up a stool to the edge of the tub and went about lathering and washing Sy’s long hair.

“I miss Vevay,” Sy said, breaking the silence. She rested her head against the tub’s curved edge, strands of wet hair clinging to her morose face. Cece paused for a moment before continuing her work.

"She’s just swamped with work. She knows you are staying with me so I’m sure she will visit when she can.“ Sy had mentioned the pirate at least once a day since Vevay had rescued her from her captors, and the pavonian’s voice was always saturated with longing. In truth, Cece knew Vevay visited nearly every night to check on her condition, but the pirate in her own self-loathing refused to face her.

"Always the stubborn ass,” Cece thought to herself, “Vevay will blame herself for this until she puts herself in an early grave.” Being a notorious pirate’s lover was always a dangerous thing. Sy could have been tortured and killed, but seeing them both now it almost felt as if she had.

Finished with her bath, Sy unplugged the drain and climbed out. Cece helped wipe her dry with a soft towel and slip her nightgown over her head. “Are you ready for bed? I’ll go prepare your tea.” Sy nodded and softly padded to her room to rest while Cece went downstairs to the kitchen. She liked to pick the herbs fresh, and she had a plot of chamomile in her greenhouse perfect for helping the restless pavonian get to sleep.

She grabbed the key from the counter and stepped out the back door. The cool night air nipped at her neck. She walked the stone steps toward the greenhouse and unlocked the door. The pungent smell of fresh green made her instantly relax. She felt much at home here among her private garden. She moved past the rows of flowers to the back where a few columns of five-leaved ivy stretched toward the ceiling. She spotted her plot of chamomile and started plucking a few of the buds.

“I know you’re there,” Cece said coolly, never glancing up from her plot of flowers.

“How did you know,” came a voice. Strong arms with calloused hands reached around Cece’s waist to rest upon her own. She knew it was Vevay before she even turned in her arms to meet the pirate queen’s burning scarlet gaze. “I tried so hard to be quiet.”

“Nothing in my greenhouse smells this strongly of booze.” The corners of her mouth upturned in a sweet smile and the pirate flashed her a grin in return. She gripped Vevay’s arms around her waist and pulled her closer, her teasing cut short by another question.

“How is she?” Both of their smiles faded and the gravity of the situation returned.

“Her wounds are healing, but otherwise she’s been about the same. She eats and speaks very little,” Cece could have sworn Vevay was eyeing her cleavage peaking out of her dress but ignored it, “in fact, the only time she seems animated is when she’s talking about you.” Vevay grunted. Cece wasn’t sure if it was in approval or discontent that Sy thought of her so often, but she didn’t have time to ask as Vevay was suddenly pulling her close to trail kisses along her neck.

“Vevay! You’re drunk aren’t you?” Cece tried to push her away but the pirate’s had a firm grip on her back.

“Maybe,” she replied sheepishly. Vevay reached down to hike Cecily’s dress up to expose her hip but her hand was quickly batted away. Cece sighed in frustration, her grievances playing on her features. Any other time and she may have welcomed the pirate’s advances, but like Syreniia, Cece knew Vevay was not in a good way.

“You can’t keep getting drunk like this. What would Sy think of you if she saw you?” The pirate slumped into her shoulder, as if she was suddenly too weary to stand. Her weight shifting slightly, Cece wrapped her hands around the pirate’s back to keep her balance. Cecily said nothing even though she felt a light wetness like raindrops at the junction of her neck. It was a silent anguish. Vevay would never dare to show this kind of vulnerability to her crew. Not even to Alcyone.

“I just want to forget for a little while.” Her voice was barely a whisper on the night air. Sex was often a coping mechanism for the pirate. If she wasn’t smashing furniture or crushing faces in her anger, getting drunk and making love was her only other release. This wasn’t an act of betraying her love for Sy. She had nowhere else to turn.

Cece pushed on Vevay lightly and cupped her chin to bring the pirate’s face an inch from her own. Her face was flushed and eyes stinging red. Affirmation of her sorrow playing in those knowing gray eyes, she averted her gaze. Cece then pushed her harder until her back arched firmly against the ivy pillar. The pirate’s eyes widened in surprise, however, the shock was short-lived when Cece thrust a leg between the other woman’s.

“If I do this, you have to promise to see her.” Her voice was stern, almost cold. She could feel the heat between Vevay’s legs through the fabric. Vevay’s chin lowered, glaring with her scarlet eyes. Their noses nearly touched with their closeness.

“Promise,” Cece asked again. The pirate gazed longingly at her lips.

“I’ll go to her. I promise.” The vow now secured, Cece’s body drew tightly against the pirate. She grasped her dark hair between her fingers and pressed their lips hungrily together. Cece’s jaw went slack, lips parting for Vevay to taste her with a loud gasp. Her hand reached to grip the curve of Vevay’s neck, nails digging into soft skin. Cece nipped at Vevay’s bottom lip, causing her to arch her breasts against her. A moan escaped her lips filling Cece with a rush of success.

Every touch of those gentle fingers and lips made Vevay’s hips jerk involuntarily and soon she found herself fumbling with her own belt. Once the clasp was released, she jerked her pants down around her hips for Cece to slip a hand beneath her underwear. She was impossibly wet and hot, and Cece slipped two fingers easily into her folds. Vevay clenched her teeth to keep from moaning, she had needed this so badly she nearly came from the penetration alone. Cece stroked fast and hard, a tongue at Vevay’s throat.

“You wish this was her, don’t you,” she husked in Vevay’s ear, “touching you like this.” Her voice harbored no spite, only a deep sympathy for the two fearful women who could no longer share this closeness. Even though there was a time when Cece had Vevay all to herself to please and be pleased, she was not a jealous lover. 

The question was just enough to send Vevay toppling over the edge. She groaned into Cece’s neck imagining Sy doing these things to her as her orgasm peaked. She threw her head back, her body going slack against the pillar. Her breathing still ragged as Cece slowly pulled out and wiped her fingers clean. She took the next few moments to straighten both their clothes as she waited for Vevay to catch her breath.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” she stroked Vevay’s arms lightly, “she needs you. Now more than ever.” Vevay came down from her high and released an exasperated groan.

"I know. I’m such a fucking idiot.“ She massaged a hand across her face to soothe her own frustration. The chamomile Cece had picked lay scattered beneath their feet and she returned to pick a few new buds. The crickets were now serenading their nightly audience.

"We should return to the house. We’ve both kept her waiting.” They left the greenhouse and entered the house together. Vevay leaned against the counter, arms crossed while Cece placed the teapot on the stove and set to brewing the tea. They both glanced at the stairs when a shuffling noise caught their attention.

"Vevay?“ Sy paused with one hand on the banister, blinking her long lashes. A slender hand reached up to block the bight light of the kitchen. Her bleary expression melted into a bittersweet smile when she realized it wasn’t a dream. She gasped aloud and threw herself forward, burying herself in the pirate’s warm embrace.

"Hello, love.” Vevay tenderly stroked Sy’s hair as the woman trembled against her.

"You smell like rum,“ she scrunched her nose and murmured into the fabric of Vevay’s shirt. Vevay chuckled and kissed the top of her head. The two women continued whispering their quiet affections in the doorway and Cece smiled softly. The gloomy atmosphere of the house had faded away and she sighed a breath of relief. When the tea was ready, she poured a cup for each and guided it into their hands. While Sy delighted in the aroma and sipped casually, Vevay peered down reluctantly at her own cup and back at Cece.

"I can’t drink this,” Vevay protested, “it’s late and I should probably get back to the ship.” Cece glared daggers into Vevay, a gaze that commanded that the pirate do what she say. Cece tapped her on the nose when she was sure Vevay might jump out of her own skin.

“You’re not leaving. So drink up.” She tipped Vevay’s hands so the edge of the cup touched her lips. Vevay anxiously drank her tea down, not desiring to be reprimanded with more than Cece’s eyes. The liquid was warm and pleasant on her tongue and did well to sober her up. When they were finished, Cece returned the cups to the sink and pushed them both up the stairs, stripped Vevay down into nothing but a shirt and pants, and into bed. The room was dark, and Sy immediately snuggled against Vevay’s chest, the drowsiness that accompanied the tea working its magic.

"Goodnight,“ Cece whispered and she pulled the covers over both of the lovers. Sy opened her mouth to wish her pleasant dreams but it came out as a half-yawn instead. Cece stifled a giggle. When she turned to leave a hand shot out of the covers and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

"Sleep here.” That familiar scarlet gaze met hers in the dark, her eyes heavy-lidded, fighting a losing battle with sleep. Vevay’s grip was not strong. Cece could easily turn and leave if she wanted. Instead she stripped down to her underwear and climbed under the covers finding her spot next to Vevay. The pirate’s wings were pulled tight against her and Cece fit herself comfortably in the space between them, her bare stomach molded against Vevay’s muscled back. Vevay’s hand found hers and pulled it around her waist. Cece felt a small shift of bodies, and another languid hand reached over Vevay’s hip and laced fingers with hers.

Cece’s face flushed and her heart thundered in her chest. Vevay often got irritated with how she would take advantage of Sy’s lack of knowledge concerning friendship, often ending in her receiving some more than friendly affection, but she knew deep down Vevay trusted her. She wouldn’t have agreed to let Sy stay if not. Cece could hear both of the other women breathing softly in their sleep now. She squeezed Sy’s hand and nestled into the soft pillows and Vevay’s scent. Her relationship to the two was up in the air but Cece knew one thing was certain, she’d have to buy a bigger bed.


End file.
